, , , , , ,

A little girl with curly blonde hair
Played in the meadow where the wild-flowers grew.
She touched each bloom with a trembling hand
And she picked some flowers for you.

She wanted to give you the curve of a petal
And the smell of a rambling rose,
The feel of rough bark on an old oak tree,
And the scent of the rain in your nose.

She wanted to capture the sound of a bird
Singing his song in the spring.
She'd give you the bluest sky she could find
And let your spirit take wing.

She wanted to give you a gift to cherish
And hold in your heart for a while.
There is nothing like nature to fill you with wonder 
And cause your eyes to smile.